


Dying Breath

by Madthoughtsq



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Gang Violence, Gen, Normal Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madthoughtsq/pseuds/Madthoughtsq
Summary: A young man at the end of his life his life things about the choices he made, and wonders whether doing the right thing always ends the same way.





	Dying Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone
> 
> If you are reading this then you have found this short story, I wrote it for a writing class years ago and decided to post it here. Thank you for reading and I hope you check out my other works as well.

It was ironic that it was raining as Jacob or J-Dog lay on the ground bleeding from multiple bullet wounds and a teenager he had never met gripping his hand, his head lay in her lap as she tried in vain to stem the crimson buckets currently coating the dirty alleyway in blood. He always knew his life would end one of two ways, either at the end of a gun or the end of a judge’s hammer and life in prison. But given how the night had started he had not expected death to come so swiftly as it has, life has of knocking you to your knees when you least expect it. 

“Come on, just stay with me. An ambulance is on the way” the girl murmured to Jacob. 

Jacob suddenly saw her face come into focus, crystallizing in his mind as he tried to raise a hand and touch her face. 

“What’s…what’s your name?” Jacob murmured, a congeal of blood coming up and out of his mouth causing him to turn down and cough in splattering blood further to his already stained shirt.

“Aleisha…the ambulance is ok just hang on” she murmured to him trying in vain to stem the bleeding from the many different bullet holes.   
He could vaguely hear her on the phone to 9-9-1 but he could feel it in his soul that his time on this earth was done. He had never been a religious person and the life he had been sometimes he felt forced into just further reinforced this fact. It was true what they, he could see his whole start to flash before his eyes, his vision being split between the present and past. He had been born in Harlem, his neighbors had been friendly, but the drug and gang problem was rampant. His father had been killed when Jacob was just nine whilst he had been working a job that was barely able to support, he, his mother and father. He had been killed over $122.27, and the man who had done it had never been caught…at least by the police.

He had tried to stay in school but the allure of easy money and the promise if a family had tempted him to a life on a street. He had been fourteen when he had started working for them and in that one week, he had earned more money by keeping a lookout on the corner for suspected Narcs. It was a dangerous life thought; he had seen a man gunned over on the opposite side of the street over a disagreement about the drugs. The junkie had pulled a six-shooter out of his pocket and before T-man knew what was happening he was on the sidewalk with six new holes in his chest and the drugs and cash had been stripped before his body had even gotten cold. 

He had reported what he had seen and the rule of the streets had come into effect, the man who had killed a crew member was hunted down and made an example of (what they did cannot be put into words). As a reward of sorts of Jacob, the gang had been able to do what the police had been unable to do…they had found the man who had killed his father. He still remembered it vividly to this day, he had been taken to an abandoned warehouse and told his initiation into the gang would be taking place that night he simply had one more task to complete to show he was in. He had been led through a dingy warehouse shown only by the light of Iceman; the man who would be responsible for deciding his fate. 

When he had been led into a dingy room with a single electrical lantern in the corner and a man tied to a chair he was confused. Iceman had explained that through their contacts they had been able to find the man responsible for killing his father and the man tied to the chair was him. His initiation was both a gift for helping them catch the man who wronged their gang and a test as to whether he had what it took to be one of them. Iceman had handed him a weapon and told him to take his revenge and prove he had what it takes to do whatever it takes to protect the gang. The gun had felt heavy in his hands as he turned it over and inspected it noting the safety was already off and there was a round already in the chamber. 

He had looked up at the man who had ruined his life, who had stripped him of his father and forced his mother into basically indentured servitude. He had already imagined the man was some sort of demonic figure, but he was just the opposite of that; an average man you would pass on the street and never notice. But as Jacob looked at him the rage burned hot in him, first in his heart until it slowly spread to the point that his eyes were tinged red from rage and before what he knew what he was doing he had raised the gun, emptying the entire magazine in the tied up man and even continuing after the gun had gone dry. 

Iceman had been proud of him, finally calling himself a man but all Jacob had felt was empty inside. As Iceman bestowed his new nickname, J-Dog, and said his proper initiation would take place once they would back to the crews’ house Jacob had been simply staring at the man whose life he had taken. Iceman had left him there and said that someone would find him and made no effort to talk to him about it; he simply left him with the corpse of the man who had destroyed his life. Jacob thought he would feel fulfilled like a goal had been accomplished but the feeling he had was one had no answer to. 

It felt as he had taken that man’s life something had been taken from him his as well; just a piece of him but it felt like it was the most important part. Eventually, he had left the warehouse and the corpse whose name he had never learned and returned to the gang house to be “jumped in.” For those uninitiated, this is the process of which the gang beats you and you must remain standing to show you have the strength and fortitude to do what needs to do done. He’d taken the beating and afterwards, he had shared his first joint and beer with the gang as a celebration for the new Young Gangster or YG in the group.

The years seemed to fly by after he had joined the gang, his mother had disowned him saying she could not have a son who would be a gangster but by that point, the gang had become his family. He robbed people, he had sold and run drugs, there had been gunfights and losses both in his gang and any gang that dared oppose them. By the time of this story he had also killed eight men, some had deserved it, but others had not and every time he had killed someone, he felt another piece of himself being cut away. As the images flashed before his mind he suddenly became more aware of his surroundings and the event that led to him bleeding out into the dirty alleyway he was currently.

There was a house party going on in the crew quarters tonight and he had stepped outside with a beer and intending to roll up a joint and have some peace. He had been sitting on the front steps just finishing up the role when he had spotted the young girl on the opposite side of the street illuminated by the poor lamp shades. She looked to be coming back from the library and she turned down a dark alleyway; he would have gone back to his drink and joint when he had spotted the three-man following her down looking up and down the street to make sure the coast was clear. J-Dog felt the 9mm Berretta he kept tucked into the back of his jeans and stood up unsure of what exactly what he was about to do.

It was a feeling inside him, he just knew that those three guys were going to be up to something and he had a choice to face; stay where he is and smoke a joint or follow them and try to stop whatever was about to happen. It was instinct, he could up and pulled his gun hiding down his hand as to arouse suspicion and followed dirty alley. There was a dumpster and it was not well lit but he could just make sure the four shadows, the three men must have used the cover of the alley to get closer to the girl who was cowering against the wall. He walked up behind up them, the girl was the first to see him before her attention caused the three men to turn around. 

“This ain’t your business so fuck off” the lead man snarled, Jacob noting the knife in his hand. 

From his position, he couldn’t see any other weapons but that didn’t mean no-one was carrying.

“You’re right it’s not, but well I hate rapists. To me, you’re just above a cockroach and well I like stamping cockroaches” Jacob replied causing the man in the lead to hold his knife up which caused Jacob to raise his gun. 

“Now you are a dumbass who brought a knife to a gunfight. The way I see it this can go one of two way; you leave now no consequences, or I start shooting. And trust me I’ve used this before” Jacob said holding the gun to the knife-wielding man foreheads. 

Movement from the man on the right distracted Jacob enough that knife-guy tried to make a move but before he could Jacob had put a round in his chest causing him to crash back and the young girl to scream. Both of the others had better preparation and bother were pulling guns from the back of their jeans, Jacob was able to shoot another in the shoulder before the other one was able to get a bead on Jacob and put three rounds in his chest causing him to crash back into the dirty and wet cement of the alleyway. The last two attackers deciding to run, one running slower due to the blood pouring from his shoulder. And so this brings us to the present time of the story in which Jacob is currently bleeding out and circumstances that led there. 

“Why did you do that?” the girl asked, confusion coloring her voice, obviously not used people showing care for strangers. 

“I…I don’t know” Jacob replied spluttering more blood onto the young girl.

Jacob could feel himself start to leave his body, the dirty alley surrounding by the high-rises started to slowly fade in and out, the young girl screaming for him stay became nothing more than a distant echo. As Jacob thought of his split-second decision to help a stranger, he could find no regret in actions even if it meant his death. He had done something right; he had helped another and at the end of the day that piece of his him that was missing he felt fall right back into place. Suddenly he could hear the skidding of tires and lights of an ambulance followed by the harried shouts of men trying to stop the inevitable. Aleisha climbed in as there were no others, the house party Jacob had been in had not even noticed his absence. 

The closest hospital was over fifteen minutes away and the paramedics already knew they were going to lose the man they had just picked but they fought against fate to try to buy him more time. The steady beep-beep of the heart monitor slowly accelerated just as ambulance did as well. Aleisha held his hand and brushed his forehead silently begging him to stay with her; this man whom she had only known through a brush of destiny had saved her and she couldn’t understand his reason. 

Five minutes before the ambulance reached the hospital the beep-beep of the heart monitor suddenly disappeared as Jacob smiled at Aleisha before the life finally left his body. Many years later when Aleisha would explain the story of the mystery man who had saved who by giving up his own life. She had found out everything she could about him and many years later when Aleisha would explain the story they would ask her why she did it and her answer was always the same; because even a bad man can make the right decisions.


End file.
